


A Song For You

by SuburbanSun



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Banter, Gen, M/M, Siblings, Surprises, Trapped In Elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22605637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuburbanSun/pseuds/SuburbanSun
Summary: When Alexis and Stevie tag along on a trip to meet new vendors for the store, David's not sure why they seem so distracted. When he and Alexis get stuck in an elevator together, though, the truth comes out-- and it's a lot more lyrical than he expected.
Relationships: Alexis Rose & David Rose, Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & Alexis Rose, Stevie Budd & David Rose
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	A Song For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scintilla10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scintilla10/gifts).



“Still don’t know why you _all_ needed to come along,” David said, adjusting the leather tote on his arm, borrowed from the Rose Apothecary inventory.

“Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Patrick. Your business partner?” Patrick stuck a hand out, which David glanced at, then promptly ignored. “Tagging along to meet new vendors is kind of in the job description.”

“Hmm, well, I don’t actually recall _writing_ an official job description for you, so I don't know if that's true.” They walked side-by-side down the corridor of the warehouse-like structure, a wholesale mart in Elm Glen. “And anyway, I didn’t mean _you_. I meant the attention deficit twins back there.” 

Behind them, Alexis and Stevie were both fixated on their phones, trudging along and just barely managing not to run into anything. To emphasize his point, David stopped short, and Stevie walked head-first into his back. 

“Whoa, man, watch where you’re going!” she griped, pulling headphones out of her ears. 

“Care to share with the class what’s such a riveting listen? Some new podcast about the origins of plaid, I’m sure?” he asked, making a move to swipe her phone. She dodged him, then tucked it into her back pocket, wrapping the cord of the headphones around her fingers in a tight circle.

“Just some business audiobook your dad recommended to me. No biggie.”

David pursed his lips in a smirk. “No _biggie_?” 

“Yeah,” Stevie said, drawing the word out. “No biggie.” She crossed her arms over her chest, then tilted her head toward Alexis, who was chewing her thumbnail as she scrolled through her own phone. “What about her? She wasn’t watching where she was going either. Patrick’s just nice enough to not stop short. That’s a form of entrapment, you know.” 

“Thank you, Stevie,” Patrick said with a grin. 

David quirked an eyebrow at Stevie, but turned his attention to his sister. A long moment passed before she looked up from her screen, eyes wide when she saw their gazes fixed on her. 

“What? Do I have something on my face?” 

“Only about four times the legal amount of shimmer shadow, but that’s beside the point,” David huffed. “Why are you here?” 

“Oh!” Alexis smiled a little too widely. “Stevie!”

“What?” Stevie asked. 

Alexis’s smile barely faltered, and she cleared her throat. “No, I mean— I came because Stevie was coming. It’s so rare we get to spend a little girl time together, ya know what I mean?” She nudged Stevie playfully with her elbow, and Stevie stumbled, but nodded. 

David narrowed his eyes as he looked back and forth between the two of them, and they both blinked at him innocently. 

“Come on, David,” Patrick said, slipping his hand along the small of David’s back to gently move him forward. “We have three vendors to check out before this place closes. Which wouldn't be a problem, had you looked up the hours online before we drove all this way like I suggested.”

“How was I supposed to know they close at 4 o’clock on Sundays?” David asked, gesticulating with the hand that wasn’t gripping his tote.

Patrick raised both eyebrows. “By _looking up the hours online_.” 

“Okay, that’s—” 

“Hey, guys?” Stevie spoke up. “Didn’t you say we’re in some sort of hurry here? Daylight’s burning.” 

David let his head fall back with a groan, and Patrick sighed. “You’re right. Might be best to divide and conquer,” Patrick suggested. “Stevie, you and I will go check out the artisan dishware on this floor and David and Alexis can handle the two vendors upstairs.” 

“Fine,” David said, pushing Alexis lightly toward the bank of elevators. She startled and held her phone screen-first against her chest, and he rolled his eyes. “Jesus, I’m not trying to read your sexts with Ted. It’s bad enough I overheard you complimenting his ‘nummy nipples’ on Skype the other day. Let’s go find the wool lady.” 

As they pushed the button to call the elevator and boarded the car, Patrick called out to them. “David?” 

“Mmhmm?”

“Need me to remind you to look at the vendor map, or you got it?” 

David scrunched his nose and bared his teeth as the elevator doors shut, blocking a chuckling Patrick from his sight. He stabbed the button for the second floor, and waited. 

“Like he’s never forgotten to look something up before.” 

“Mmhmm.”

“I mean, sure, maybe the man still prints out directions from GoogleMaps every time we take a roadtrip somewhere just in case we lose cell service.”

“Uh huh.”

“And he calls ahead whenever we go to a restaurant in Elmdale to make sure they’re not, like, closed for a private event, or something.” 

Alexis giggled. “Yeah, sounds good.”

“Are you paying any attention to me at all?” 

“Ha, yeah.” When he didn’t say anything else, she finally wrenched her gaze from her phone and let out an impatient noise. “ _What_ , David?” 

He gave her a similarly impatient glare. “ _Why_ aren’t we moving?” 

Alexis frowned. “What do you mean? We’re in an elevator.” 

“Exactly. Do you feel said elevator going either up or down?” 

Brow furrowed, she glanced around the shiny silver box, as if something in one of the corners might hold the answer. “Ummmm.” 

“Exactly. We’re not moving.” He jabbed a finger at the button for the second floor once, twice, three times, and nothing happened. He spared her a glance, trying not to panic. “Why aren’t we moving?” 

She cleared her throat and tossed her hair. “Look, David, it’s fine. We’ll just click this little guy…” She pressed the button marked ‘Doors Open.’ Nothing happened. “Or, okay, this little guy…” she said, her voice starting to sound a bit more strained. She pressed the button marked ‘Emergency,’ and again, nothing happened— no lights, no sirens, nothing. “Ugh, David!” 

“Don’t ‘ugh, David’ me! This isn’t _my_ fault!”

“You’re the one who dragged me to this place!” 

“ _Dragged_ you?”

Alexis let out a frustrated sound and stamped her foot. “Okay, fine. It doesn’t matter who dragged who, because now we’re stuck here for the rest of our lives.”

He sighed, backing up to lean against the silver wall. The handrail dug into his lower back and he focused on it as he tried not to let panic get the best of him. “Why don’t you put that phone of yours to good use and call somebody to get us out of here?” 

She pressed her lips together, then peeked at the screen of her phone. “The thing is, David, I’m sort of in the middle of something here.” 

“Oh my god.” He pulled his own phone out of his pocket and dialed Patrick. “Hi, I’m—” He paused and listened, then rolled his eyes. “No, I’m not _lost_. We are _trapped_ here, though. Uh huh. In the elevator on the left. ‘Kay.” Then, to Alexis: “They’re on their way.”

She frowned. “What is Patrick going to do about it, anyway? Does he suddenly have some kind of Hulk-like strength? Is he going to wrench open the doors with his bare hands?” She cocked her head to the side. “Because, if so, that’s pretty hot.” 

“Mmkay, stop picturing my fiancé's bulging muscles. _No_. But he’s sensible; he’ll know what to do.”

Minutes passed, but to David, they felt like hours. By the time he heard Patrick pounding on the elevator door, he’d sunk down to sit in the corner, arms around his knees. 

“David? Are you okay in there?” Patrick sounded worried, which David took a moment to appreciate. He cleared his throat before answering.

“Yeah, we’re fine, just— feeling a little parched, actually, and the air is starting to feel thin?” He really thought it was. Had someone cut off the air to the elevator car? “Might be dying. In the illustrious words of Stevie, though, _no biggie_.”

“Okay, if he’s making fun of me, he’s fine,” came Stevie’s voice from the other side of the door. She wasn’t _entirely_ wrong, David had to admit. 

“I alerted a security guard, and they’re bringing some tools to get you out of there,” Patrick said calmly. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

Alexis, who was still standing, shifted her weight from one side to the other, holding her phone in the air. “Can you ask them if there’s a WiFi password for the elevators? I have, like, _no_ service in here and my Google Doc won't load.”

“Oh my god, whatever love note you’re writing for Ted can _wait_ ,” David griped from the floor. 

“It’s not for _Ted,_ it’s for _you,_ ” she spat down at him. Her eyes widened when she realized what she’d said. “I mean, yes, of course it’s for Ted. I’m writing a song for Ted.” 

David blinked up at her. “I’m sorry. Did you just say you’re _writing a song_?” 

“What? No! Of course not!” Alexis jutted out her chin, brow furrowed. “Who do you think I am, Jewel?” 

“Is Jewel still a relevant cultural reference?” Stevie asked, voice muffled by the metal doors. 

“Cool it, Stevie, or I’ll tell him about your role in all this,” Alexis snapped, and Stevie gasped. 

David got to his feet, suddenly feeling considerably less concerned about the stopped elevator and considerably more intrigued by the story that was unfolding. “I’m sorry, can you please explain yourselves? Alexis, you’re _writing a song_ , and Stevie has a role in it? What, are you going to duet at our wedding, or something?” He chuckled, but Alexis didn’t laugh. In fact, her eyes just got wider, like the time he’d caught her sneaking out of her bedroom window wearing clubbing gear with the crown prince of Dubai. 

The elevator was silent for a long moment, but finally, Alexis broke. 

“Ugh! Fine.” She waved her phone at him. “I wanted to do something special for your wedding, and so I decided to write and perform a song for you two. And I was so impressed with our little Stevie’s performance in Cabaret last year that I asked her if she might want to jump in on a few harmonies. That’s all.”

David pressed his closed fist against his lips and watched her fidget in place. 

“So I’ve been working on finishing touches to the lyrics, and Stevie’s been listening to the demo I recorded at the motel the other night on her phone,” Alexis finished, deflating. “And that’s why we’ve been so distracted.” 

“May I?” David asked, gesturing to her phone. With a long moment’s hesitation and a sigh, she handed it over, the lyrics open on the screen. He spared her another glance, then began to read them silently to himself. 

“David?” Patrick called out. “Is she showing you the song? How is it?”

“Also, the maintenance guy is here,” Stevie chimed in, as a cacophony of metallic sounds began. Just as the doors were wrenched open, David reached the end of the song. When he looked back up at Alexis, his eyes were wet. He couldn’t help it. It didn’t matter; hers were misty, too.

“I don’t know if I would have rhymed ‘perfectly,’ with ‘herbal tea,’” he said, fighting a smile.

She scoffed, stepping out of the elevator and nodding at Patrick. “You drink herbal tea, don’t you?” 

“Ah— not really, no. But I’m sure it’s a beautiful lyric, anyway,” he hurried to add.

David followed her off the elevator, instinctively slipping his arm around Patrick’s waist, and tilting his head at Alexis. “Yeah. It really kind of is.”

Later, after they’d made it to see the wool lady and the driftwood guy on the second floor (taking the stairs, of course), Stevie and Alexis huddled together over a phone screen as they approached the car, with David and Patrick lagging behind. 

“Are you actually going to let them sing at our wedding?” Patrick asked.

“Oh, absolutely not.” David shook his head. “We will find a way out of that one. One of my parents can pull the fire alarm, or maybe we should just elope.” He watched them thoughtfully, leaning closer to Patrick’s side. “But I’m going to need to hear that demo. Maybe it’s something we can just keep for ourselves. Might be nice to have our own little song."

Patrick pulled back to look at him, a note of surprise on his face. "That's very sweet, David." He narrowed his eyes. "Are you also thinking the demo might make good blackmail material for the both of them?" 

"Oh, very much yes." And he was. But when he really thought about it, thought about Alexis and Stevie writing a song to celebrate his and Patrick's love, thought about the fact that there was a love to celebrate, he felt warm all over even in the chill of the late afternoon.

He couldn't wait to hear it.


End file.
